


Hypnagogic

by seamonster



Series: If sleep is god, go worship. [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Other, Post-Recall, ends like fluff, it starts like angst, mostly comfort, others mentioned but not interacted with, probs not as cute as part 1 but, shrug, slight PTSD, things change yall, though not really hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 02:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamonster/pseuds/seamonster
Summary: Years after the fall of Overwatch, you find yourself on the doorstep of Watchpoint: Gibraltar, wondering if anything has changed as much as you have. You don't realize that you're not the only one hoping for something better this time around.





	Hypnagogic

**Author's Note:**

> i tried not to rush this and accidentally made it longer than i meant to. slight dad 76 in this one.

You've been reading a lot about sleep again lately. Particularly, on the philosophy of sleep. It wasn't easy, but you managed to get your hands on a hard copy of one of Tekartha Mondatta's earliest writings; discussing whether or not the biological differences between omnics and humans (and therefore the human need to sleep more than omnics) has any bearing on achieving spiritual enlightenment. The book was confusing at times, but that was probably because you weren't a spiritualist. Just a realist trying to find sleep of your own. 

He had such a beautiful way with words, though. You could easily hole yourself up in abandoned buildings or the odd safe house for hours between jobs, just reading. It was tragic, what happened to him, but you suppose that not all mercenaries have as much of a moral code as you.

“Have you considered trying to sleep yourself, instead of just reading about it? Real thing is always better than fiction.”

You were reluctant to pull your attention away from the book, but did it anyway to muster up a deadpan look.

Across from you, the old soldier snorted at your expression.

“Like you have any room to talk.”

You’d found an old bunker under a farm house somewhere in the American midwest. It was abandoned and off the maps, the perfect place to drop by and recoup without being sliced up in your sleep. When either of you managed to sleep. Your trust for each other went far enough to allow it, but that didn’t mean that either of you were any good at it.

He went back to cleaning his rifle and you went back to your book. The small space heater between your cots barely kept you from shivering.

“I’m heading to Mexico tomorrow,” Jack said after another hour or so of quiet between you. You gave an acknowledging hum without looking up. “Where are you heading next?”

It was obvious he was trying to sound nonchalant, as if he was barely interested. But you’d long since grown used to his dad-like behaviours; keeping tabs on your movements and physical well-being. It was kind of sweet, but it also reminded you of...different times. Which could hurt if it caught you off your guard. 

“Dunno,” you said as you turned a page. “Maybe Spain? Beautiful this time of year.”

He hummed in agreement.

Eventually he called for a lights out and you put your book away. You laid in the dark, less than two feet apart from each other, listening to the hum of the heater and not even beginning to nod off. Which didn’t make any sense. You were exhausted, physically and mentally. It was also dark and mostly warm; the cot mattress wasn’t the worst you’d ever slept on. You should be able to sleep. Instead, you huffed a sigh and looked over to the dark shadow nearby.

“Jack…”

He didn’t say anything, but he scooted closer to the wall and you heard him hold the edge of his blanket up. You gratefully dove into his warmth.

Whatever the hell the government had pumped into Morrison’s veins made him a space heater in his own right. It was heavenly to leech off of. He let you smoosh your face into his chest, listening for the sound of his heart beating. Despite his age, the rhythm was strong and steady, a soothing staccato the lulled your mind into slowing down.

In that haze of nearly asleep, you once again thought about the call. That teasing and torturous call, still broadcasting on the old Overwatch emergency frequencies. You weren’t sure Jack had seen it yet, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had. It seemed unlikely he’d even consider it answering it, though.

You wished you were that strong of mind. That hell-bent on your own vendettas. But in truth, you didn’t have any. You took jobs for money and survival, you passed justice for sport, and you wandered the globe like an ill breeze because you just didn’t have anywhere to go. You’d be content fooling yourself into thinking the call was a dream, but you hadn’t had a dream in… years.

Even though it had been several months since you’d heard it, the memory of Winston’s voice still echoed inside of you. Calling you home in a sweet temptation that was too good to be true because your home was gone. Rubble and memorials. There was nothing left to go home to.

“Kid.” Jack’s rough voice cut through your spiralling thoughts and you opened your eyes. He tucked you in tighter against his chest. “Sleep.”

You closed your eyes again.

\---

In reality, Spain was beautiful all the year around and you made sure to ping yourself for Morrison as soon as you got there. He messaged you a single thumbs-up emoji on your current burner comm. There was a “be safe” in there somewhere, you were sure. You hadn’t told him yet. He likely wouldn’t approve.

It’s not like you were planning on staying anyway. You just wanted to see. And even though you hadn’t spoken to him in years, Winston had been a friend once. It’d be nice to catch up.

You made the trek on foot. It gave you plenty of time to second guess yourself and almost turn around multiple times, maybe see if Jack wanted some back-up in Mexico.

You were crossing the border into Gibraltar before you could chicken out, though.

By order of the Petras Act, all Overwatch bases had been shut down and locked up, trespassing punishable by law. It was obvious that no one in Gibraltar gave a flying fuck. There was a fence around the compound, and signs affirming that you should turn back, but it wasn’t an overgrown ghost of a place like you’d been expecting. 

A panel by the gate lit up as you stood there, just staring at the building in the distance. You almost jumped out of your skin to hear a voice you hadn’t heard in a lifetime, instincts making you dive for the ground. But you caught yourself in time, only jerking down to a crouch.

“Good afternoon, former agent.”

You hesitantly approached the panel, confusion on your face.

“Athena?” Your voice cracked. “I thought… they would have shut you down, too.”

“Oh, they tried,” she responded, sounding quite cheerful to be reminded. “But they did not succeed.”

You gave a slow nod. “I can see that.”

You jumped again when the gate started to slide back, opening the road up for you to continue.

“Winston will be very happy to see you, agent. Please, come in.”

Well, you supposed it would be rude to just turn around now.

You saw other people before they saw you, which was always what you preferred. You didn’t take the road directly, but veered off of it and found somewhere close enough to crouch in the grass and take out your scope. There was an Orca in the hanger, looking fully operational. You’d already heard that Lena had answered the call, and Reinhardt, among a few others. Not many, in the grand scheme of things. That would at least make it easier to avoid being seen. 

You didn’t so much enter the compound up the proverbial welcoming mat, more like you skirted around and climbed partial ways up the side of the cliff until you reached the communication tower. Athena scared the lights out of you again when you passed another panel.

“Are you looking for someone specific, agent?”

You looked around quickly and crouched down by the wall, trying to control your breathing.

“Quickest, least likely to be spotted route to Winston, please.”

Somewhere behind you, you heard a door hiss open. When no one walked through it, you figured it was for you.

Winston’s lab didn’t look all that different from the one he’d started out with back in Zurich. It was still a disorganized mess of probably brilliant yet half-finished inventions. The big guy himself was seated at a collection of computer screens, talking with someone over a communicator. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the opportunity to put your bag down and have a look around.

You had no idea what anything did, but damn if your fingers didn’t itch to press some buttons. Eventually, you kept yourself from temptation by coming to a stop behind the scientist and looking over his screens. Having been so long since you’d heard it, the sound of Lena blinking into the room didn’t register as quickly as it should have.

“Hey Winston! I’ve finished up in the--You’re here!!!” You were tackled to the ground before you could react, a brightly-colored and energetic young woman yelling excitedly. “You actually came!! I knew you would!”

Winston finally turned around in his seat, looking just as surprised.

“Where did- _ when _ did you get here?”

“They arrived on base approximately seventy-three minutes ago,” Athena helpfully informed.

“And you sneaked right up to his back! I guess we really need to improve security in this place,” Lena gave you a wink as she helped drag you off the ground again.

“I’m sure Athena would have warned you if the threat had been hostile,” you pointed out, feeling a little flustered, and itchy. You gave Winston a small, shy smile and he beamed in response, taking your hand to shake.

“I’m so glad to see you. We really weren’t sure you’d answer, after everything.”

“But it’s wicked that you showed up now, you’re just what we need!”

Something like fear clicked between the segments of your spine and locked it up. You started shaking your head.

“Oh no, no no, I’m not--that’s not why I, uh, I’m not staying. I just wanted to see…” That’s right, this trip had been driven by curiosity, nothing more.

The shift in the room was immediate and dove right under your skin. Lena’s excitement flipped to an understanding that paranoa told you reeked of pity. Winston’s expression softened, patting the back of your hand gently.

“You’re always welcome here, my friend. And you’re welcome to hang around as long as you’d like. There’s quite a few familiar faces to be found.”

His attention divided for a moment and he responded to someone over his headset.

“I’m sorry, we’ll have to catch up later tonight. Lena, can you show them around?”

“Roger that!”

Winston looked regretful as he turned back to his work, giving you a parting smile.

You only accompanied Lena as far as outside, cutting off her chatter with a touch to the arm. She could sense something was off right away and you smiled awkwardly.

“I’m gonna just have a look around on my own, if that’s alright. I can’t do too many faces right now.”

“I understand, luv.” Her hug was kinder this time, squeezing you fondly. “If you need me at all, just let Athena know and I’ll find you, okay? I was stationed here, once upon a time, so I know the place by heart. I’ll be there quick as a whip.”

You gave her an assuring nod before she blinked away and you felt like you could breathe again. You stood looking up at the clear, blue sky for a moment, lavishing in the cold ocean breeze. Deep breaths. 

The Gibraltar base had a surprising amount of catwalks and nesting spots. The walls were also fairly easy to scale. You spotted Reinhardt in the hanger with Lena, helping her move things around. There was a young woman with them that you didn’t quite recognise, but her accent was definitely Swedish. Athena gave you free access inside, letting you go wherever you pleased. It reminded you distantly of your nightly treks through headquarters, a lifetime ago. There were some more new faces in the training range, both of them looking somewhat familiar, as though you’d seen them on posters or something like that. You spotted a really run-down looking bastion unit outside in the grass, watching birds fly by. You noticed them, but no one noticed you.

Eventually, your exhaustion crashed into you like a riptide, making you feel vaguely like your mind was barely clinging to your body. That’s usually how it went. You’d stay up for days on end and then just crash out of nowhere. So you found a closet in an unused conference room and locked it from the inside, curling up in the corner with your bag. Athena tried vainly to convince you to move to an unused bedroom instead, but you just ignored her. Now was the time for sleep, not arguments.

  
  


You awoke much later with an anticipated ache in your neck, back, and shoulders. Blindly, you dug around in your bag until you found a biotic emitter and cracked it on the ground, lighting up the dark closet with a soft, golden glow. It quickly eased your sore muscles and helped lift the fog of sleep clinging to your head. Jack would undoubtedly disapprove of you wasting an emitter like that, but you preferred to be in peak form when in unpredictable situations. It didn’t feel as though you were in any danger, but you’d also rather be prepared. You were well-versed in how quickly “complete safety” could blow to smithereens. 

Athena didn’t say anything as you left the conference room. It was dark outside with a distant edge of grey on the western horizon. Maybe a couple hours after sundown, somewhere near midnight? The halls were empty. Gibraltar clearly lacked the night-owls Zurich once homed. 

You found your way to a reasonably-sized kitchen on accident, but were grateful. The emitter had done nothing to fix the dry tongue settled thickly in your mouth. There was an abandoned box of cereal on the counter when you walked in and it stabbed you with anxiety. You suddenly, really wished Jack had come with you. He was just as terrible with people as you were (if not more so), but he was a face and presence that didn’t make you feel drained or restless. For as much as Winston and Lena had been your friends once, they were nearly strangers to you now, and that realization was making you want to leave. Find Jack, make Jack hug you because he would and you needed it, dammit. You turned on the sink faucet to a trickle and drank from your cupped hand. You even used your sleeve to dry up whatever water had landed in the sink, leaving as little of a trace as possible. No one needed to know you were still there, you were leaving anyway.

Except that when you turned around, you nearly shrieked, both hands clapping firmly over your mouth to muffle the squeaky seed of a scream. An omnic had been standing behind you, completely silent. You’d never heard him enter the room.  _ No one _ sneaked up on you.

You wobbled back against the counter, trying to calm your racing heart. The omnic was just staring at you, deathly still. If it weren’t for the green glowing of his faceplate, you’d think no one was home. Your hands shook a little as you pried them off your face, instinctually covering your chest.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?”

The omnic jolted more upright and you realized they actually had a hand partially extended towards you, like they’d been reaching for you before you turned around. When they realized you had noticed their hand, they snatched it back. It was quiet for an awkward moment, the omnic wasn’t speaking. Was there something wrong with their voice?

Then they moved. Slowly, with clear intent to reach for the cabinet just over your shoulder. You swooped out of the way quickly, backing up to put a few more feet between you. They pulled a glass down and filled it with water from the tap. Which was a weird thing for an omnic to do until they offered it to you. Oh. They’d totally caught you drinking out of your hand like some kind of wild person.

“No, thank you, I’m… finished.”

They hesitated, but ultimately poured the water out and put the glass back. You should have slipped out of the room while their attention was on that, but you didn’t. For some reason. This was another new face, one that managed to get the drop on  _ you _ . That made you uncomfortable, but also the smallest bit curious.

It was obvious that neither of you knew what to say or do after that. You stared at each other in silence. Despite the silence, though, the omnic did seem very interested in you. They were looking you from head to toe, head barely tilting, probably trying not to be obvious about it. You felt compelled to break the silence. What was small talk?

“It’s rare that someone manages to sneak up on me…”

The omnic tilted their head slightly to the side, a soft voice finally sounding through.

“Is it?”

“I’m usually the sneak,” you confirmed with a nod, fishing in your brain for something else to say. What your mind reeled in was generic to say the least. “You, uh, liking Overwatch so far?”

They turned slowly to face you better and you realized your feet had begun taking you in small, measured steps back towards the door. You stopped yourself, hand twitching. 

The omnic seemed to consider your question.

“I like it… more than last time.”

Last time? You'd only been in Overwatch proper between Blackwatch’s disassembling and the… explosion. You'd stuck with Reyes the whole time so you don't remember most of the other agents, but there was something about this omnic's voice that made you ache inside.

“If I am to be completely honest, I am very surprised to see you here.” You tilted your head in question, brow furrowing. They clarified, “the last I heard, you have been picking off mob leaders and ignoring everyone's phone calls.”

“Do I know you or something?”

They paused, a short quiet settling in the room before they started making a strange sound. We're they malfunctioning?

Oh no. No, they were laughing. For a moment they were overcome by it, laughing loud and full-bodied, even leaning against the counter as they tried to get a hold of themself. You've never seen an omnic laugh like that. Again, your eyes glanced back to the door.

“Don't,” the omnic managed to breathe between chuckles. “Don't leave.”

So you waited for them to get a grip, feeling uncomfortably exposed. 

“I am sorry, I did not realize-- but I should have. I've changed a lot.”

They put their hands on either side of their faceplate, releasing it with a hiss. You watched them remove the entire thing, yanking the air right out of your lungs.

His scars had paled over the years, most of them, and his eyes lacked the red glow you'd known for so long. But it was still his face, still his eyes. Still his smile, soft and tentative.

“Yo.”

“Genji…” Of course it was him. How could you have forgotten his voice? Forgotten the hot, numbing flutters in your guts every time he spoke to you. Your eyes stung and swam, clogging the sight of him, even as you swallowed thickly. “Hey,” you croaked.

He said your name softly and you tried to blink the tears away. The first touch of cool, metal on your cheeks didn't make you flinch as hard as you would have expected; and when you didn't jerk away, he gently wiped your tears.

“Nice chrome job,” you joked through your crying, biting back sobs. You did  _ not _ come all the way here to have a breakdown. 

He chuckled softly, an easy sound. You weren't sure you'd ever heard him laugh so freely before.

“I've had a few upgrades.”

“Find a good cyberneticist in Nepal?”

“Better.” He didn't elaborate, but that was fine. He was starting to pull you into a loose embrace and you held tightly to his arms in return. You almost couldn’t believe he was hugging you again, after so many years...

You stiffened when you heard a door open somewhere down the hall. Genji heard it too. It was painful to feel his arms slip away, until he took your hand in his and guided you out of the kitchen through a different door. You scrubbed your sleeve against your eyes as he led you through the halls, trusting him to take you anywhere he wanted. The length of your separation certainly hadn’t dulled your faith in him. You didn’t pay attention to your surroundings until you were standing in a modest bedroom. There were a few pachimari plush toys on the bed, looking to be made of crane game quality, and two swords displayed on the wall. Genji gently urged you to sit on the edge of the bed, then unfolded a small blanket to drape over your shoulders. You pulled one of the toys into your lap to hug.

“Win these yourself?”

“Of course.” He sat down next to you. You’d prefer it if he held you again, though.

You fiddled with one of the stuffed tentacles. “I had that keychain one you gave me for years, but I lost it to a live hand grenade someone hid in my pack.” You’d cried about it for at least two days, Jack had looked distinctly uncomfortable trying to comfort you over a toy. He still did it, though.

Genji almost said something, then thought better of it, giving you a small smile instead.

“I can always win you another. They still make them.”

You nodded, but didn’t respond. Next to you, Genji shifted, sitting just a little bit closer. You shoved the doll away and hugged him, selfish and needy. He didn’t seem to think it was selfish, because he hauled you into his lap to hold you tight and a fire ignited in your soul. One you thought had gone out for good. 

His voice was soft as he comforted you in gentle Japanese. You understood none and all of it. It was a strikingly familiar exchange between you two, only this time in reverse. Back in the Blackwatch days, you were the only person Genji would seek for comfort when his dysphoria got really bad. It would seem he’d learned a thing or two about comforting people himself since then. You didn’t mind the switch.

It took you an embarrassingly long time to settle down. Dammit, you promised yourself that you  _ wouldn’t _ have a break down. Broke that promise.

“I really missed you, you know,” Genji said after a while, voice barely there. You could feel him bury his face into your hair. “Even though it was my choice to leave. I wrote you letters… I don’t know if you ever got them.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodded slightly.

“I got them,” your voice felt tight. “I read the first two but I just, I couldn’t after that. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize--”

“Yes I do.” You forced yourself to sit back, to meet his eyes. “It’s my fault everyone lost touch with me, I, I pushed everyone away.”

“Because you endured a traumatic experience. No one blames you for closing off, we’ve just been worried. I’ve been worried.”

He thumbed away a few stray tears from your cheeks, expression full of emotion you weren’t used to seeing on him. He’d been right, he really was different now.

“The hell happened to you in Nepal.” It came out more brusk than you intended, but he seemed to understand. Even cracked a small smile.

“I found peace, with my body and with myself. It wasn’t easy, but I had guidance. I found a wonderful teacher among the Shambali, he helped me come a long way.” His smile warmed and you stilled when he carefully cupped your face. “More than my body, he helped me find clarity in my emotions. Acceptance, forgiveness, even love.”

“Oh,” was all that fell out of your mouth. That flame inside of you was wobbling with the way he looked at you, sparking a little brighter.

“This may not be the best timing, but I cannot help but feel that you being here, now, at all is the universe trying to help me tell you something I wanted to tell you a long time ago.”

A smooth thumb grazed over your cheek soothingly. Your tongue felt a little dry in your mouth.

“Which is?”

“...That I am in love with you.” Your mouth formed the ‘oh’, but no sound came out. He carried on. “I fell in love with you… pretty quickly, to be honest. But I never dared say anything. I did not love myself then, I wasn’t going to ask you to try loving me.”

“I didn’t have to try.”

It came out so sudden that you caught him by surprise, making it his turn to swallow hard while he tried not to smile too brightly just yet.

“I know it has been many years since we’ve been in each other’s lives, but you have always been with me in spirit. And I would very much like the opportunity to be in your life again. In whatever capacity you wish.”

Your heart was thundering, blood throbbing in your face as you squeaked out, “boyfriend?”

It was worth it to hear Genji laugh again, openly grinning now. Damn did he look great smiling like that, he was still so pretty.

“Boyfriend sounds good, better than good.”

The more he laughed and smiled, the lighter you felt. Baggage you didn’t even know you had slid right off of you and, slowly, you let yourself smile, too.

The years disappeared after that. You sat in Genji’s bed and talked for the entire night. He told you about his teacher,  _ the _ Tekhartha Zenyatta, and about his travels before Nepal. You talked about Jack and all the stuff you made the old man put up with. You didn’t really talk about your work, your kills. You didn’t want to. Genji didn’t seem surprised that Morrison was still alive, either. In fact, he sounded a little relieved that you hadn’t been by yourself the whole time.

When the horizon began to pale, Genji firmly closed his window slats and dug around in his dresser. 

“We should get some rest. I normally keep weird sleeping hours, so no one should bother us.”

He pulled something black out of the drawer with a triumphant sound, you had already shucked your jacket, overshirt, and boots off. He gave you an impish smile before yanking the hoodie over your head. It smelled entirely like him, grinding up your guts with nostalgia. 

“It’s gotten a bit old, but I tried to take good care of it. It is one of my most valued possessions.”

You pushed your arms into the sleeves and looked down at yourself, suddenly struck speechless.

It was an old Blackwatch hoodie, though the insignia was somewhat faded.

You dove for your bag, yanking the big zipper open and quickly finding your match. Yours was much more worn out, the black fabric faded to an almost grey. The insignia was near-completely gone, too. But Genji was overjoyed to see it. He snatched it right out of your hands and pulled it on over his head.

“It’s… not exactly clean.”

“I am a cyborg, I do not care. It still smells like you, and,” he paused to sniff the collar, “pulse munitions?”

“Yeah, that’s what Jack uses, the smell lingers.”

“I am almost inclined to feel jealous,” he joked, joining you on the bed again, both of you moving under the covers this time.

“Of a grumpy old dad?” You laughed.

“You’re right, I am not jealous of that.”

There was one pillow and you both settled against it, very comfortably close. He put a hand on your waist, watching you to see if it was okay. You put your hand against his chest, bunching the hoodie fabric between your fingers as you slowly tugged him closer.

“Warning you now, I’m kind of a mess these days.”

Genji’s chuckle puffed against your lips.

“You took care of me when I was a mess, and somehow managed to love me anyway. I am more than happy to return that devotion.”

The kiss was as soft as the fluttering of your heart, yet it held more than either of you could ever say in words. Genji pulled you as close as he could, hand sliding from your waist up your back. Even through the knit jersey, it awakened a comet trail of tingling nerves. You tangled your legs with his and burned the memory into your mind.

It was all too soon that you both pulled back, a little flushed and smiling. Genji breathed something in happy Japanese and you had a feeling that you were going to have to pick up the language. He kissed you again on the nose, trying to tuck you into his chest. You were more than happy to get comfortable there. It was a once-familiar and well-missed place.

After a moment of quiet, though, you couldn’t help but frown.

“Hey,” you said, tapping his chest.

“Yes?”

“I can’t hear your heartbeat,” you complained, earning an amused hum. He reached under the hoodie and, after a moment, soft thumping filled the blank, static-filled spaces of your mind. It was steady and serene, and you melted into it.

“I love you, Genji.”

He hugged you a little tighter and, for the first time, you heard his heart skip a beat.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> same song and dance as always:  
> twitter- @seamobeemo  
> 


End file.
